Black Flag (Racing on the Edge) (4 page)

Cole, driver of the No. 90 Ford, and
Harris, driver of the No. 10 Dodge, were fined $10,000 each and placed on
probation until Dec. 31. Ben Willing, crew chief for Cole, and Jeff Johnson,
crew chief for Harris, were fined $5,000 each and placed on probation until Dec.
31.

All parties involved were in violation of
Section 12-4-A (Actions detrimental to stock car racing: Involved in an
altercation with another competitor in the garage area after the completion of the
race) of the NASCAR Winston Cup Series Rule Book. Willing and Johnson
infractions under 9-4-A also included the crew chief assumes responsibility for
the actions of his or her driver, car owner and team members.

NASCAR later released a statement saying…
“If any other driver is involved in an action deemed by NASCAR as detrimental
to the stock car racing or NASCAR, or is disruptive to the orderly conduct of
an event, the competitor will be suspended indefinitely from NASCAR.”

After reading the article
for the hundredth time that morning, I came to the distinct conclusion
nothing
would be enough.

Nothing would ever be
enough for what he did to Jameson.

 In the past,
drivers had taken Jameson out, if you want to call it that. Intentionally
wrecking him, approaching his pit after the race, things like that. But
never
had it gone this far.

Trying to kill another
driver was not right. Join a fight club or hockey if that’s your intention. To
me, this was unacceptable. Something like this should have
never
been
allowed to happen.

I’d been sitting in his
hospital room all afternoon, most of which was spent in the bathroom, throwing
up that insanely mammoth style breakfast I demolished.

Jameson was in and out.
Sometimes he was alert and aware of who was in the room. Other times he was
just downright lethargic. They assured us this was just the medication trying
to help him heal faster.

Around nine o’clock
Monday night his eyes were fluttering open again.

I was looking over a
People
magazine next to his bed emerged in the lifestyles of others. I’m not gonna
lie, this was just a cover. I was intently watching some ridiculously
captivating reality show as well.

Jameson groaned, “Fuck
...
”

At least he can still
articulate his favorite word.

“Sway
...
” he croaked and then sighed. I could
tell he was still heavily sedated from the narcotics.

I silently wished I had
access to the same narcotics. They’d come in handy for this emotional
rollercoaster I found myself riding.

Tossing the magazine on
the floor, I leaned forward reaching for his hand.

His rough fingers
grazed lightly back and forth under my palm.

“I’m right here,
sweetie.” I soothed pulling his hand toward mine.

“Come here.” He begged
with hooded eyes. A faint smile flickered across his lips.

“I’m here,”

“No
...
closer
.” His eyes fell closed
again trying to move over but winced in pain. Instead, he patted the space
beside him. “Please
...
I need you
...
closer.”

I knew what he wanted.
He wanted me in bed with him.

Wanting that just as
much as he did, I cautiously maneuvered myself in bed. This was an extremely
difficult task to do with the many broken bones covering most of his left side.

I snuggled as close as
I could get, without being too close. Jameson wasn’t having it and tugged me
with his good arm even closer. Gently I laid my head against his chest,
listening to his strained breathing.

“Thank you honey,”
Jameson whispered his voice gravelly
and
sexy. “I needed that.”

I wanted to tell him
that he couldn’t speak with that voice, it distracted me but I remained silent.
Now wasn’t the time for that.

Moments passed where we
just laid there watching the television; well I was watching it; I wasn’t sure
if he was. I doubted Jameson could even focus on it but when I felt a strained
chuckle, I glanced up at him.

“What the fuck are you
watching?” he finally asked squinting toward the screen in the corner of the
room.

“I uh
...
” Reaching for the remote on the table
beside the bed, I turned it off. “I have no clue
...
it was just on.” I lied.

Damn you reality TV!

Now I could see why
everyone watched that shit.

“How are you feeling?”
I snuggled against his warm body. It was hardly comfortable but at the same
time, it was.

“Sore,” I felt him try
to shift in the bed but groaned instantly when he realized that wasn’t
happening. “Very sore,”

The room was silent for
a while; the only sounds were the beeping of the monitors he was hooked up to
and the sounds of his unsteady breathing.

He surprised me when he
spoke, his voice a raspy whisper. “Are you really
...
pregnant?”

I smiled thinking of
the little crazy irrational jelly bean inside me. “Yes,” I whispered back.
Thoughts of little rusty haired grass green eyed baby floated around me.

“I
...
uh
...
”
he cleared his throat carefully. “not that I’m upset or anything but I thought
you were on
...
birth control?”

Turning in his arms, I
looked up at him. I thought I would see regret but I didn’t. All I saw gazing
back at me was love. The love he had for me
and
our unborn child.

“I was. Apparently
they’re not one hundred percent effective
...
so
I’ve been told.” I replied sarcastically.

“Really?
Fuck
...
they should put that on the box.”

“That’s what I said
...
but when I read the box, they do.” I let
out a soft chuckle. “You’d think they would put it in a larger print or
something.”

Jameson’s head leaned
back against his pillow, his lips turned into a smile when his eyes closed
again. “A baby
...
hmmm”

“Do you want to see the
picture?”

His eyes flickered open
and met mine, my favorite smile shinned. “You have a picture?”

“Yeah,” I reached in
the pocket of my hoodie and pulled out the crumpled photo. “That,” I pointed to
the bubble on the black and white photo. “Is your crazy irrational jelly bean
...
it’s still cooking but it’ll be ready
for racing sometime early March.”

Jameson let out a soft
chuckle kissing my forehead.

“Who told you I was
pregnant?” I asked curiously.

“No one did. I had a
feeling when I left but didn’t want to say anything.”

Intuitive
bastard.
Why couldn’t he have let me in on that theory before he left? At least then I
wouldn’t have been subjected to the insanity of Emma and her trying to sneak a
peek at my crankcase and her inner workings.

Setting the picture on
his thigh, I looked up at him.

“I’m
...
sorry about Axle.”

I could see the sadness
instantly in his tortured expression; he was still struggling with that. I knew
the events directly prior to the race were hazy but he remembered what Alley
told him.

“I know.” He murmured
with a nod. I watched as his eyes shinned with tears though none spilled over.

Squeezing his eyes
tightly, he composed himself. Jameson never showed his emotions that way but he
did when it came to that brown-eyed little boy who stole a piece of his heart
that day he spent with him.
A piece that would forever be
held with Axle Nathan Taylor.

Continuing to stare at
our picture, Kyle knocked softly on the door before stepping inside. I could
see his girlfriend standing outside in the hall waiting for him.

“Hey bud, how are you
feeling?”

“Ready to race,”
Jameson attempted to give a thumbs up with his good hand that was wrapped
around me.

“Hah!” Kyle laughed.
“You’re funny.”

Jameson looked down
with a nod. He knew he was going to be missing a few races and I think that
bothered him.

“I
hear they’re
doin
’ surgery on the wrist tomorrow
morning?”
Kyle moved closer sitting on the couch just inside the door.

“Yeah,” Jameson sighed.
“
Puttin
’ in some pins
...
I guess.”

Kyle stood and walked
toward the bed. Jameson moved his arms from around my shoulder, reaching for
Kyle’s hand. “I’m glad you’re okay bud. You scared me.”

“I know
...
I’m sorry.”

Kyle reached for his
cell phone in his pocket. “Can you repeat that?” he laughed pushing the phone
toward him. “I want to record it.”

I started giggling from
my place beside him.

“Not a chance.” Jameson
glared at me before turning it on Kyle. “That’s the only sorry you will ever
get out of me. Remember that.”

“Oh I will.” Kyle
added. “I wasn’t sure you were capable of those two words.”

Jameson groaned. “So what
do we do about another driver?”

“We got a few options
around.” Kyle told him. “We can worry about that after the surgery when we know
how long you will be out. That will determine
who
we choose.”

Jameson and Kyle made
small talk for a moment before pussycat doll came back in to deliver the good
stuff. I knew I only had about fifteen minutes before he fell asleep.

Kyle politely excused
himself before Melanie started her process of exams on Jameson.

Being the
crazy-irrational-hormone-enraged-pigizzle that I was now, I watched
every
move she made and scrutinized
every
look Jameson gave her trying to
decipher whether or not he’d be attracted to her. Having never been insecure, I
wasn’t impressed with these emotions at all. I’d like to blame it on my
hormones but I seemed to be blaming everything on that these days. You’d think
at some point my brain would need to take some sort of responsibility.

My thoughts were lost
when the nurse began her exam, pushing his gown aside to reveal his stomach. My
eyes instinctively went to his lower abdomen and then lower hoping to catch a
glimpse of the camshaft. All I was able to see was the faint dark hair leading
to my favorite track. And if you’re not familiar with a camshaft, this was my
term for a man’s penis. It’s a long shaft that’s inserted into the crankcase (a
woman’s vagina). I had name for anything sexual and it all related to engines.

“Oh, well look at
those,” Melanie snickered looking over Jameson’s tattoos on his lower hips that
told her he belonged to Sway Reins.

I laughed trying to
hide my amusement by pretending to cough.
Didn’t work.
Jameson shot me a glare attempting to cover his hips from being exposed
further.

“You’re going to have
those forever you know.” She told him straightening his blanket.

“No shit.” He grunted
clearly not amused.

“Jameson,” Melanie
touched his left leg over the blanket ignoring his rudeness. “How are you
feeling tonight?”

His brow furrowed
looking down at her hand before answering.
“Sore—less groggy.
I guess that’s better?”

“Well the grogginess
won’t go away just yet.” She tapped his IV. “It’s the morphine. You’re on a
high dose right now to keep you relaxed. The more you rest, the faster you
heal.”

I could tell he was
still sleepy or else he would have objected to being sedated so heavily.

Melanie smiled one
breathtaking smile at him. It was a smile that made me want to punch out all
her pretty white teeth.

Jesus, could she be any
more beautiful?

“Let me know if you
need anything, sweetie.” Her head turned to the side. “It’s not every day we
have a NASCAR superstar in here.”

Jameson smiled and then
looked away quickly without saying anything. I could tell she was making him
uncomfortable, he didn’t like attention or the touching and neither did I.

Once the door closed
behind her, Jameson sighed heavily. “I hate this place,” his voice thick and
drowsy. “I just want to go home.”

“I know
...
I do too.” I agreed running my hands
over his stubby jaw. “Soon,”

Gingerly I brought his
lips to mine. I intended on kissing him just once but Jameson had other plans
when his tongue glided against my lower lip.